When His Parents Leave For Work
by Radical.2
Summary: Draco's parents are rich, obviously, because they never paid thousands of dollars for a babysitter; they used Dobby. So what does Draco do when his parents got to work? Songfics to various songs by Pink.
1. Funhouse

**J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

**Songfic to Funhouse, by Pink.**

**Pardon me if there is any OOC-ness.**

**P.S. This is supposed to take place the summer after hid first year; he's twelve years old.**

As soon as his parents left apparated to work for the day, Draco raced upstairs to his room.

"I HATE MY DAD!" he screamed, then yelled down the hall, "Dobby!"

"What is it, Master Draco?" he asked.

"Go get my muggle radio!" he demanded, jumping up and down on his bed.

Dobby rushed down the hall and came back quickly, supporting a large radio in his arms.

Draco snatched it from him and plugged it in, turning it to his favorite station.

His favorite song was on, so he yelled over the pounding loud music, "DOBBY! LET'S DANCE!"

Draco picked him up and spun him around, singing along to the song.

_I dance around this empty house_  
_Tear us down_  
_Throw you out_  
_Screaming down the halls_  
_Spinning all around and now we fall_

He jumped off his bed, landing on the carpet with a thud, and he screamed as loud as he could.

"Isn't this fun?" yelled Draco, popping up from the floor and spinning around.

He heard a squeak and realized that he had stepped on his beloved house elf!

"Oh my Godric Gryffindor! I'm so so so so so sorry, Dobby!" he said desperately, picking him up and gently setting him on the now unmade bed.

_Pictures framing up the past_  
_Your taunting smirk behind the glass_  
_This museum full of ash_  
_Once a tickle_  
_Now a rash_

"Woooooooooooh!" yelled Draco. "This is so fun!"

"Yes, Master Draco. Very fun!" replied Dobby in a frightened tone.

_This used to be a funhouse_  
_But now it's full of evil clowns_  
_It's time to start the countdown_  
_I'm gonna burn it down down down_  
_I'm gonna burn it down_

Draco sang so loud that a guy across the street mowing his lawn could hear him.

"9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, FUN!" he screeched out his window, then slammed it closed and pulled down the shades, laughing and smiling.

"I LOVE HERMIONE GRANGER!" he yelled over the pulsing beat of the music, pretending that he was dancing with her.

"I'm gonna burn it down!" he finished, breathing heavily.

"Are we done now, Master Draco?" asked Dobby meekly.

"No way!" replied Draco. "I love this song even better than the other one!"

And you all thought that he played Quidditch for exercise.

You thought wrong.


	2. It's All Your Fault

**I've decided to do a few more songfics with Draco and Pink.**

**This one is dedicated to that guy in my class who sings Funhouse at lunch and during study hall when the teacher leaves because he got that song stuck in my head.**

**Song: It's All Your Fault, by Pink**

_I conjure up the thought of being gone_  
_But I'd probably even do that wrong_  
_I try to think about which way_  
_Would I be able to and would I be afraid_  
_Cause oh I'm bleeding out inside_  
_Oh I don't even mind _

Draco was completely tired.

He way lying on his unmade bed, staring at the ceiling, while the melody of another song drifted to him.

Dobby sat on his dresser, legs hanging over the side, somewhat bored.

"She's so pretty, you know? And that Weasley kid just treats her like she's an alien or something," he said to Dobby.

"Okay," replied the house elf, trying not to roll his abnormally large eyes at the boy.

"They treat her like Anakin Skywalker was treated before he became a Jedi knight. He was a slave, did you know that? He was a genius, just like Hermione," muttered Draco.

"Okay."

"This song makes me think of her," he said, oblivious to the elf's annoyance.

I _am _a slave, thought Dobby.

"She was nice to me on the train, but then she found out that I was a pureblood and then she ended up hating me. Stupid Harry Potter," he narrowed his eyes at the ceiling.

"Okay."

"She's so prejudiced, you know?"

"Okay."

"Can you provide me with some quality conversation? You have a girlfriend, don't you? I need girl help," Draco said.

"Winky works at Hogwarts, in the kitchens."

"That's cool."

_It's all your fault_  
_You called me beautiful_  
_You turned me out_  
_And now I can't turn back_  
_I hold my breath_  
_Because you were perfect_  
_But I'm running out of air_  
_And it's not fair_

"She was nice before I introduced myself," Draco continued. "She liked my ponytail."

"How romantic, Master Draco!" exclaimed Dobby.

"I know. I told her that her eyes reminded me of Chocolate Frogs," replied Draco.

"How...unique," Dobby said hesitantly.

"I know! I think she liked my uniqueness, she said thank you!"

"Did you say you're welcome?" asked Dobby.

"Errr..."

_I would never pull the trigger_  
_But I've cried wolf a thousand times_  
_I wish you could_  
_Feel as bad as I do_  
_I have lost my mind._


	3. Family Portrait

**J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

**Song: Family Portrait, by Pink.**

(Summer after second year, age 13)

_Mama please stop cryin'_  
_I can't stand the sound_  
_Your pain is painful and it's_  
_Tearing me down_

Dobby is gone, thought Draco. He was freed by that Potter prat and now I have no friends this summer.

He could hear his mother sobbing in the room next to his, and every tear wrenched his heart in half.

He couldn't stand her pain, he could feel it too, and it made him angry.

He had used to hate his father because of the abuse if he did things wrong, or his candid strictness, and now he had another reason.

His father was a death eater, a follower of Voldemort.

And his father was trying to help bring him back to life, to ruin more lives.

_I hear glasses breakin'_  
_As I sit up in my bed_  
_I told dad you didn't mean _  
_Those nasty things you said_  
_You fight about money_  
_'Bout me and my brother_  
_And this I come home to_  
_This is my shelter_

He hid his radio in a secret cabinet behind a painting above his bed, because Dobby couldn't hide it with him anymore.

Draco didn't care if his father would find him listening to it; his father never paid any attention to him these days.

His time was spent either going to secret death eater meetings or arguing with his wife, making her cry like she was now.

Draco hated it all.

_I ran away today, ran from the noise_  
_Ran away _  
_Don't wanna go back to that place_  
_But don't have no choice, no way _  
_It ain't easy, growin' up in world war 3_  
_Never knowin' what love could be_  
_But I've seen, I don't want love to destroy me_  
_Like it did my family_

He smiled a grim smile at how true these lyrics were of him; he didn't run away, but he had thought about it.

His parents wouldn't notice, anyways. Not for a few days, at least.

It wasn't easy, that alone was true. Nothing was ever easy, but everything had always been hard for him, even the simplest of things.

"Dobby," he whispered into the air, "I miss you."

Now he had no one to comfort him after the fights.

It was utterly horrible.


	4. This is How it Goes Down

**J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

**Song: This is How it Goes Down, by Pink.**

(Summer after third year, age 14)

_I hear my name  
I hear the trash you're talking  
In your sleep, the secrets that you're keeping  
Oh shit, you're smart  
Did you really think you could keep her in the dark_

I can't believe this, thought Draco. She hit me.

The girl I've secretly liked for years hit me in the face last month, and I swear I can still see the bruise.

That's what she would always be.

A darkened pink mark on his face, a symbol of her hatred towards her.

He had slipped up, she had been too smart.

He had insulted her, and he had deserved the hit.

It still hurt like hell, though.

_Does she purr_  
_Does she make it hard_  
_Hard to speak_  
_Does she dress the part_  
_I'm sure she'll take some getting used to_  
_Brother she will never be me_

Hermione didn't just make it hard, she made herself impossible, yet irresistable to love.

Sometimes he wanted to punch her himself for how she made him feel, and she still had no clue!

How could anyone do that? How could he, Draco Malfoy, manage to like a female, a muggle-born, for more than a day! Three entire years, it had been!

And even the only time she acknowledged his presence was when she was glaring at him or jeering at him, she still took his breath away.

He still found it hard to walk by her without wanting to snog her senseless.

He still felt it all, even after three years.

_Feel the burn, take a spin_  
_Suck the poison out of me,_  
_I'll make ya beg, I'll make ya come_  
_To your senses if you keep_  
_Up the shit, take the hit_  
_This is how it goes down,_  
_This is how it goes down_

The burn? Of course he felt it, whether it was the flaming joy at seeing her smile or the heated anger towards her, it was obviously there.

His muggle radio reminded him painfully of Hermione, and he smiled to himself at the thought of her listening to this song at the same time he was.

He found Pink's songs to be quite comforting at these times, and today was no exception.

They also reminded him of the old days, when Dobby had been here all the time, there with him.

Now he was gone.

"Dobby!" he whispered, his heart breaking.

Muggles have dogs for best friends. He had a house elf.

_Somebody done lied to you_  
_Because you're not such a big shot dude,_  
_You might wanna rethink it through,_  
_You should've asked me I would've told you the truth._


	5. Please Don't Leave Me

**J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

**Song: Please Don't Leave Me, by Pink.**

(Summer after fourth year, age fifteen)

_I don't know if I can yell any louder_  
_How many time have I kicked you outta here?_  
_Or said something insulting?_  
_I can be so mean when I wanna be_  
_I am capable of really anything_  
_I can cut you into pieces_  
_When my heart is...broken_

The words _I HATE VIKTOR KRUM _were splattered across the roll of parchment before him.

On an afterthought, he added _AND RON WEASLEY. AND HARRY POTTER. _

How dare they hurt Hermione like that at the Yule Ball!

And it was also their fault that he had been transfigured into a ferret.

A ferret!

He absentmindedly wondered if Hermione had thought he was cute in ferret form.

He snorted to himself at the direction his thoughts were heading.

_AND MY HERMIONE _he finished, throwing his quill at the foot of his bed, sighing.

He just felt so much when she was there, and then he ended up saying something foolish and insulting her, and then hee would try to hurt her, and that never ended well.

No one, no one had ever known about this, except for Dobby.

He had seen Dobby a few months ago, on the last day of school.

He had found out how he was working in the kitchens at Hogwarts, and had visited him.

He had poured his heart out to Dobby, and he had actually cried when he had seen his old friend.

But Dobby had been distant, worrying only about the boy who lived, Harry Potter.

That had earned him a spot on the hatred list.

_Please don't leave me_  
_Please don't leave me_  
_I always say how I don't need you_  
_But it's always gonna come right back to this_  
_Please, don't leave me_

He smashed his fist through the parchment, breaking through it and splotching dark ink all over his hand, not to mention his bed.

Not that he really cared about that.

He pulled his pillow to his face, trying not to sob and groan and moan and scream, but that was impossible.

Besides, his parents were gone. Everyone was. It shouldn't even matter.

_How did I become so obnoxious?_  
_What is it with you that makes me act like this?_  
_I've never been this nasty_  
_Can't you tell that this is all just a contest?_  
_The one that wins will be the one that hits the hardest_  
_But baby I don't mean it_  
_I mean it, I promise_

Pink's songs were so true of him, it was very nearly insane.

He gave a wry smile to the poster of her on the back of his door, the one no one but him knew about.

She looked like a crazy muggle, but it reminded him of Hermione and Dobby.

It made him want to laugh and scream in frustration at the same time.

_I always say how I don't need you_  
_But it's always gonna come right back to this_  
_Please, don't leave me_  
_I forgot to say out loud how beautiful you really are to me_  
_I can't be without, you're my perfect little punching bag_  
_And I need you, I'm sorry-_

"Draco?" Narcissa opened the door, a surprised expression on her face.

His hand shot to the radio, turning it off and shoving it under his inky, tear-soaked pillow.

"Hey, Mum," he said, blinking away his tears from before.

"Why are you crying?" she asked gently, stroking his hair softly.

He leaned onto her shoulder, saying, "I'm not crying."

She let out a weak smile. "How many times must we go through this?"

"Until you stop asking."

"Or you start answering...Draco, is this about a girl?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at her son.

"No, it's just...yeah, pretty much," he admitted quietly, trying to stare at the floor.

"And Viktor Krum?" she pressed, holding up the ripped parchment.

He shrugged, "It's nothing, Mum. Nothing."

"If you ever need anything...Dinner's ready," she told him.

She wiped a stray tear from his cheek.

"Kay," he said, standing up.

"Who is that woman?" asked Narcissa, gesturing at his treasured poster.

It had been permanently stuck to the wall.

"Er...no one."

"Right," she said, trying not to roll her eyes as she swept out the door.

_Please don't leave me  
Please don't leave me_

Draco groaned into his pillow once more.

Why was it always him?


	6. Crystal Ball

**J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

**Song: Crystal Ball, by Pink.**

(Summer after seventh year, age eighteen)

_Drinking wine and thinking bliss, is on the other side of this_  
_I just need a compass and a willing accomplice_  
_All my doubts that fill my head are skidding up and down again_  
_Up and down and round again, down and up and down again._

Draco stared at the ceiling, thinking nothing but one sentence over and over and over again: _Dobby is dead, Dobby is dead, Dobby is dead..._

But the words changed the more he thought about it, and soon it had turned to _Father is in Azkaban, Crabbe is dead, Voldemort is dead..._

_Everyone is either imprisoned or dead. Why did I have to be spared?_

And Hermione, she was gone too, Weasley had whipped her off her feet into his loving arms or whatever.

She just...He felt nothing towards her, nothing towards anyone anymore.

Nothing.

_Oh, I've had my chances and I've taken them all._  
_Just to end up right back here on the floor._  
_To end up right back here in on the floor._

_Pennies in a well, a million dollars in the fountain of a hotel._  
_Fortune teller that says maybe you will go to hell._  
_But I'm not scared at all..._

If only, at the Ministry of Magic, they had believed him when he had told them all about how he had tried to kill Dumbledore.

"He's just a boy," they had all said, simply ruining his unwanted reputation, the one his father had been obsessed with.

But he _was _scared, in a way. What would happen to him and his mother? To the Slytherins? To...Hermione?

He didn't like her anymore, it was all just so empty.

He glanced at the wand beside him, picking it up.

"It'd do everyone else a big favor," he whispered quietly, wondering if he should do it.

Just then an owl swooped in through his open window, dropping a letter on his chest. He lazily opened it and read it.

_Draco,_

_I just wanted to ask if you were okay, after all that went on...Are you okay, because you seem so different? I suppose everyone is, but you the most. Owl me back soon, my family and I are worried._

_Love, Astoria._

So this was what would happen, it was quite obvious that he would marry her.

Draco promptly sketched out a reply and tossed it to the owl, going back to staring at the ceiling.

_Maybe the way I can prove myself is to survive. My last bit of bravery, my first, really. _

_I guess I won't give up, for a while at least._

It was time to move on.

_Irony, irony, this hate and love, hate and love_  
_What it does to me, what it's done to me._  
_What is done..._

_The cracks in the crystal, the cracks in the crystal ball._


End file.
